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31 January 2013

It's a law of blogging, and possibly a law of the land, that sooner or later every blogger has to tackle the Ricky Gervais question. So, readers, we'll do this once and never again, and we all know you won't read it anyway.

I can still remember listening to Ricky Gervais on the radio as I was driving to Darlington for my friend Sally's wedding. He was talking about a new television show that was going to be on BBC2 quite soon, about the people who worked in an office. It sounded good, and I loved it from the start right through to the sentimental but happy ending. A lot of the people I worked with, in an office, as it happens, hated it, and I would try to defend it, but the one argument I could never entirely counter was the allegation that Gervais wasn't acting - he was only playing himself. People, I thought, didn't realise that that didn't matter. David Brent wasn't the star of the show, but a grotesque subplot to the real story of Tim and Dawn, both beautifully acted characters, both generously given all the best stories.

But it's been downhill all the way from there for me. In Extras he continued in the same character, but it became central. The character of Maggie should have been the star, but as the programme went on she was increasingly excluded from the story. Instead, the show was filled with cameo roles for celebrities. These were sometimes funny, but seemed like a huge boast about the contents of his address book. By the end of the second series the programme had broken under the weight of the celeb burden and Gervais gave us a long final episode in which his character and Maggie were finally reunited, and Gervais launched into an embarassing and hypocritical tirade against celebrity culture, so contradicted by his own life that he was not even biting the hand that had fed him but kissing it.

By this stage, I was predisposed to dislike anyting he was associated with. He got into twitter storms for his insensitive use of words like "mong" and it seemed his career was in trouble.

Then came Life's Too Short. I honestly think that even if this had followed The Office, when I and most people still loved his work, I and most people would have concluded it was rubbish. As a comedy it just didn't work. It looked as if Gervais didn't have a true understanding of comedy, with comic scenes being played out laboriously, as if he had read a manual on the elements of farce, but just didn't get it. There was one sequence where Warwick Davis's character had a new washing machine delivered, and set out to fly-tip the old one down an embankment, little knowing that he was in fact dumping the new one after a switch-over. It was clueless on so many levels.

But if Gervais wasn't funny, at least he was clever. Building a sitcom around Warwick Davis meant that he could be accused of bullying, of exploiting Davis's stature unfairly. That wasn't what he was doing at all, but it meant that discussion of the programme centred around that question, and on that I'd defend him. The show wasn't offensive in that way: Davis's character was generally sympathetically drawn, with only a few crude slapstick elements.

Same thing with Derek. Now the lead character has some kind of learning difficulty. So again, the discussion has been centred around the question of whether the portrayal of Derek is offensive. Gervais has pre-empted this, talking about his view of Derek as just a good, simple soul in a wicked world, and there was a pointed passage in last night's first episode where Derek dismissed the importance of attaching any kind of label to his behaviour. Again, I'd defend Gervais: the portrayal of Derek isn't inherently offensive.

But Gervais's acting is. If you believe that the skill of acting is to appear to become a real person who is not yourself, then Gervais can't act. To be fair, it is a three dimensional performance: Derek consists of a bad cardigan and haircut, an awkward stance, and the voice of Sam Gamgee. That and a lot of other people telling us how sweet, kind and funny he is.
Some of Gervais's generosity remains. Kerry Godliman, as Hannah the home manager, gets some good lines and the chance to show the rest of the cast what acting looks like. But she's trapped by a scenario that's flawed. A council inspector, twirling his invisible evil moustache, threatens to cut funds. "Well, we'll raise our own funds then" she says. What does that even mean? What kind of care home manager could say such nonsense? The kind who finds a drunken, sex-obsessed outsider naked in the bed of one of the residents, and lets him back into the building, that's who. Yes, I know it's a comedy not a documentary, but comedy only works if it bounces against a believable reality.

The last point I want to make about Derek is the portrayal of the residents. Maybe it's a satire of how too many residents are in fact treated, but here there was little or no autonomy shown by the residents. We caught a few names, but no characters. I don't think it is a satire, and maybe this will change as the series develops, but at present it seems like the residents are just a backdrop for Derek's troubles.

Which is a shame, because Gervais' intentions appear honorable. The fate of people in residential care can be horrendous, and ostensibly he's trying to do something about it. But at present, the programme's just perptuating residents' role as passive beneficiaries of Derek's kindness, Hannah's determination and Gervais's understanding.

But I've got trapped into discussing the programme as if it were a documentary or a polemic. As I've suggested this may be helpful for Gervais, as it stops us considering it as comedy. It's generally foolish to discuss tastes in comedy, and some people will have liked this very much. I have to report - I told you, it's the law - that I sat through the show without a laugh.

Of course Ricky Gervais is too big to be affected by anything I say. Channel 4 let him write, direct, executive-produce and star in his own series. My whispering in his ear "Remember you are mortal" will be drowned out by his 4 million twitter followers, constantly telling him "You are a comedy god". But that adulation and that power look more and more like they are destroying any comedy gift he once had.

I've been struggling with my feelings towards Gervais for a long time
now. I loved the XFM years and The Office. I thought he dealt with
reactions to disability really well in the latter. Brent's behaviour
towards the employee in the wheelchair was so well observed.

He did sail quite close to the wind in his stand-up sometimes and that
made me recoil a bit, but I thought he was smarter than that and
concluded it must have been done with irony.

Then I met him. Or rather didn't. And had to conclude that, yes, he is
just a jackass. Here comes that anecdote. I've been sitting on it out of
respect. It's not classy to bad mouth other comics. But I am no longer a
comic and he no longer deserves my respect.

So, I did some stand-up at the Bloomsbury Theatre a few Christmases ago.
I was really excited about it as I was on the same bill as Stewart Lee,
Richard Herring, Mark Thomas, Josie Long, Chris Addison, loads of
really good people. Gervais was also on the bill.

We had a massive green room, full of food and stuff that we were
autographing for auction. As it was Christmas there was a lovely festive
feel and everyone was having fun backstage.

I was waiting for Gervais to turn up but he never did. After a while it
was explained to us by the organiser that he refused to share a green
room with anyone, in case we bothered him. Can you imagine Stewart Lee
going all fan boy over Ricky Gervais? Please!

They'd had to make him up an impromptu dressing room out of one of the
spare rooms backstage. Food and drink was removed from our room for him,
and the stuff to be autographed was collected and taken to him when we
were all done signing it.

When the show started we all stood in the wings, cheering each other on
and watching each others' sets. Then the organiser informed us that
Gervais didn't want anyone standing in the wings when he was on, and
that we were all to go back to the basement dressing rooms before and
during his performance. Twenty performers, many of them top names, being
bossed about by this diva-ish man.

I thought 'screw that - you don't tell me where to stand' so I hid
behind a giant beanstalk (panto season!) and waited for him to go on.

He emerged from the dressing room area, with a miserable face on him,
and did a quick check of the wings to make sure no oiks were hanging
around. He didn't find me. Don't know what he'd have done if he had.

Oh and he had a man following him, carrying his bottled water. All he was missing was a chiuaua in a bag.

28 January 2013

After a forgettable first half, Charlton put together an exquisite team goal to take a lead which was retrospectively merited by the way they played in the next 30 minutes or so. But then it started getting a bit slack and the team hardly seemed to notice as Weds got the two late goals.

It wasn't depressing to see, it was annoying. There will always be unexpected defeats, but there was a kind of slow motion car crash feel about this one as if all the players had decided there was nothing they could do to stop it.

I've written before about Charlton's propensity to give away goals in
the last 10 minutes, and this was perhaps the clearest example. After the game, there were predictable questions about why no substitutions were made until it was too late. Those questions are fair enough, but Chris Powell obviously thinks it's best to leave the team unchanged as much as possible, rather than risk disrupting their pattern of play. Normally I'd agree, and no-one can say that earlier subs would definitely have made the outcome any different.

But the late switch-off is a recurrent problem, and we still don't seem to have an answer.

13 January 2013

A rather alarming opening gave way to that rarest of things this season - a comfortable home win on a Saturday afternoon.

The first twenty minutes saw Charlton totally fail to make an impact on the game, losing possession at every opportunity. But perhaps even in these early stages it was becoming clear that Blackpool, for all the tidiness of their midfield play, lacked a real goalscoring threat.

After Charlton had scored - Jackson, untidily but opportunistically - Blackpool never really looked dangerous. Around me there was a certain amount of disatisfaction with Charlton's willingness to sit back, but perhaps it was just a brilliant tactic based on close scouting; maybe you can let Blackpool dominate possession and territory with impunity. And the forced selection of Morrison and Taylor in central defence would in any other circumstances have looked like a brilliant decision: they had the solidity that had been the bedrock of last season's success.

No-one had a bad game, in fact. Another returning player, Scott Wagstaff, didn't make a big impact going forward, but it wasn't that kind of game. He perfectly played his part in the five across midfield keeping Blackpool anodyne. And he did score the second goal: he knows how to be in the right place at the right time. It's a pity we haven't seen more of him this season. Probably.

But the man of the match for me was Lawrence Wilson. He's getting better all the time, and is developing a really good understanding with Chris Solly. The interplay between them was crucial for the second goal.

A comfortable result brought out the best in the Charlton crowd. When Nathan Eccleston came on as sub for Blackpool he got warmer applause from the home fans than from the visitors. We even applauded Kevin Philips off the pitch - it was his 550th match apparently. The Covered End chanted "We beat you at home, we beat you at home. How shit must you be? We beat you at home" and possibly even rarer than a home win, we had a referee (M Jones) who was so good at his job that no-one noticed him.

It was a freezing cold afternoon, but one of the best this season. And I haven't even mentioned the dazzling debut of Callum Harriot.

07 January 2013

Like every Charlton fan, particularly after Saturday's embarassment, I assume that Charlton are uniquely awful in the F A Cup. Since the 1999/2000 season, the length in ties of their involvement in the competition has been as follows:

4, 2, 2, 2, 1, 3, 4, 1, 1, 2, 1, 3, 3, 1

To put it another way 5 times out of 14 they've gone out after just one tie.

How bad is this, statistically speaking?

Let's make the simplistic assumption that on average, a team has a 50% chance of winning any cup tie. This isn't true, but it's a starting point.

On that basis, Charlton should have won 7 of their first tie fixtures, but they actually won 9. Hmm, not bad.

If we go on to the second round, and again assume an average 50% chance of winning, there's a 25% cumulative chance of winning both ties. Charlton have won their first two rounds 5 times, which is more than 25%.

The chances of winning the first three rounds - the best Charlton have done in the period - are 12.5%. Charlton have actually managed about 14%.

But, dear reader, can you spot the flaw in my reasoning? The point is that if you are a premier league team, or in the third tier, your chances of winning your first match should be higher than 50%, because there are so many lower level teams in the draw for that round. When you factor that in, it's likely that Charlton have underperformed in the Cup, but not by very much.

A good run in the Cup is a rarity for all but a few top teams, and is statistically unlikely. Charlton's cup performance isn't uniquely awful, and maybe we just need to lower our expectations.

06 January 2013

I wasn't planning on attending Charlton's game on Saturday. Call me plastic all you like, but I'd come back at you with the riposte that only a fool would ignore history's habit of repeating itself, first as tragedy, then as farce, then as slightly amusing sitcom and finally as tedious soap. This was a poor episode of Eastenders.

"The magic of the F A Cup" hasn't existed in South East London for many years now. I don't know if anyone's done the statistical analysis - and with the sad death of Colin Cameron at Christmas, probably no-one ever will - but it wouldn't be surprising if Charlton were the worst team in F A Cup history, at least since 1947. And it's contagious: even our horrible neighbours in New Cross can't beat the curse. Improbably getting to the Final a few years ago, they then served up an insipid display that managed to unite the country in joy at a Manchester United victory.

Talking of insipid displays ...

I hadn't intended to go. But my plans for Saturday afternoon had suddenly fallen apart, somehow I'd got it into my head that tickets were only a tenner, and and wouldn't it be nice to sit in a different bit of the ground for a change, and how bad could it be? I soon found out the answers to all these questions, which I shall enumerate as follows:

1. Tickets were £15. Which isn't bad in the great scheme of things, but the chances of a Charlton cup match being worth £15 are much less than of it being worth £10. But it was too late by then to change my mind.

2. You've probably never heard or heard of "Robin and Wendy's Wet Weekends". It must be the most unappealing title in history of Radio 4 sitcoms, and it occasionally pops up on Radio 4 extra. It's written by, and stars, Kay Stonham who has an irritating high-pitched voice. Well, she, or someone improbably doing a first rate impression of her, was sitting behind me. Worse than that, she really has it in for Bradley Wright-Phillips, to the extent that she was happy when he was nowhere near the ball ("Where is he now?"), but even happier when he had it ("You watch - he'll mess this up!"). She was probably secretly upset when he was subbed off. I shall return to my regular seat next week with a new-found respect for my neighbours.

3. It was pretty bad. Once again, it struck me how last season's success was built on the stability of the team selection. Here, though, we had Jordan Cook, looking quite lively but not in sync with the players around him, and BWP clearly out of practice. Huddersfield got their goal fairly early on. They didn't have to do much after that, and didn't. Charlton should have, but didn't, until after they were down to 10 men, Dorian Dervite having been sent off for a blatant DOGSO foul after being easily turned and outpaced. I think that means Charlton have only two central defenders available for selection at the moment.

An afternoon to forget, mainly, then. The only consolations are these: there wasn't much on the telly yesterday, so I didn't miss anything there; and next year surely I won't be mug enough to expect anything better. I think what we all need now is a picture of Samantha Janus in the shower, and I just happen to have one.